Yes, Lord Vader
by Lunatic Howling in the Night
Summary: After the Battle of Endor everything went so terribly, indelible, wrong. With 60 years of life experience under his belt, a small compromise, a change in career, and a second chance, Luke is ready to give it another go. Time travel.
1. Predicament

**Yes, Lord Vader**

 _A/N: I needed somewhere to hug words._

 **Chapter 1 - Predicament**

Perhaps it was a predilection of poor fortune, posturing and vandalism that landed the child in his current predicament. A child no more than fourteen standard years old apprehended for defacing the statue of His Majesty Emperor Palpatine on Empire Day, on the Emperor's very own homeworld of Naboo. Blond haired and blue eyed, the boy, wearing little more than tattered farming rags not out of place on some derelict Outer Rim dust ball, merely blinked at him.

"Young man, do you understand the gravity of the situation into which you have landed yourself?" Rich, received pronunciation rolled from Grand Moff Tarkin's taut lips and fury rolled from him in waves which splashed upon the Stormtroopers holding the boy. "You have defaced an immensely valuable statue of His Majesty Emperor Palpatine on this day of celebration. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Inexplicably, the boy brightened and he opened his mouth. "Well, sir, you see I was drawn to the ruminations of an artist most grand who speculated most splendidly upon the recusant restorative work of an excellent effigy in the utmost likeness, all due respects granted, of His Royal Most Exhaultedness in attempting to recompose the stipulated image with certainty, utilising utilitarian and pragmatic methodology of redecoration suitable for recognition of the grand auspices of Empire Day."

The throne room of Theed collectively blinked. Someone deep in the ranks of Queen's court strangled down an inappropriate noise.

"You painted the sculpture scarlet," Tarkin breathed with difficulty.

"T'was an exotic reflection of the refractive capabilities of localised aesthetic, both necessary and indispensable to the cohort of collaborating minds forming civil, informed and cultivated bedrock and ultimately esteemed society through mechanised aerosol can." The boy was a sea of serenity against the raging firestorm that was Grand Moff Tarkin who paled and shook as the boy delivered his reply.

"You clearly have no understanding of the situation upon which you have landed yourself." Tarkin drew himself to his full and rather unimpressive height. "Lord Vader, how shall we deal with such brazen insubordination?"

Vader folded his arms resolutely and contemplated the scene before him. Tarkin, filled with malice, the decorated Queen of Naboo mortified at the proposed execution of a child for vandalism along with her court, Senator Bail Organa and his daughter among the audience, simmering with outrage. "Measures must be taken. Where are your parents, boy?"

The boy inclined head somewhat morosely. "An untimely expiration, Lord Vader."

"An orphan then", Tarkin announced triumphantly.

Bail Organa furiously gestured. "You are going to condemn a poor, street orphan, who lacks so much as a guiding figure in life, to such a harsh punishment when the poor boy has had no positive role model? The boy needs a family, not punishment."

"And who would be willing to take such an urchin in? Surely he would be better have his needs met by entering the Imperial Fostering Organisation," the reedy man demanded.

"We would," a high, imperious voice emerged from Organa's daughter. "We can provide superb care for someone in his position as we so regularly do with our Senate sponsored mercy missions." Leia Organa positively bristled in the Force, unfurling a set of spines aligned in Tarkin's direction. Much like her mother Queen Breha, the Princess had developed a velvet glove concealing durasteel as the utmost courtesy coated her tones. The blond child's head swivelled in her direction at speed, a minute distortion in his flowing sense of peace. The boy would have been much at home among Jedi meditations.

"I have my doubts as to the level of discipline you would provide to the boy given his detrimental start in life," Tarkin's voice thick, almost simpering. "I feel he needs a stronger guide in life." Immediately Vader could feel the unconcealed surge of suspicion from the Organas, with Bail Organa taking a step closer towards the child ringed by guards.

"We have cared for many orphans who suffered due to the destruction caused by the rebel scum," Bail Organa positively spat in Tarkin's direction. "Our mercy missions have always been available to assist those orphaned by the conflicts. The overwhelming majority have become well disciplined members of society. Why should this child be any different?"

"This child," Tarkin rolled, "is not a war torn boy ruined by conflict, but an ill mannered reprobate. To suggest his circumstances are the same detracts from the point." His lips curled upwards, the Dark Side surged in response and Vader could feel an urgent, panicked whisper before something breathed gently and extinguished the voice of the Force. Vader's mind drifted to the disturbance as the back and forth between the trio continued in vain.

"I'm sure you are in agreeance, Lord Vader," Tarkin uttered and Vader returned his attention to the matter present. "You are in need of a personal assistant and the boy is in need of some discipline. What better way to have him repent for his misdeeds than to the serve Empire so directly?" Tarkin's sadism was a beacon, but not to the Dark Side for it stubbornly eluded his grasp even as Tarkin foisted the disobedient child into his metaphorical arms.

"This is unacceptable," the Princess screeched," you cannot simply post this poor child on a military ship and expect us to let this stand. It is simply deplorable! The Senate will not stand for this appalling treatment of a child." It seemed to escape her Highness that she too was a child and one where the political might of the Moff towered above her.

"Oh, not so my dear, you see the boy will have a civilian posting as an aide to Lord Vader to better facilitate his busy duties throughout the Empire," Tarkin's smugness seeped deeply into the Force. "There he shall learn discipline while retaining his youthly entitlements." The Sith Lord felt the Force stutter in the face of such a bold lie. Tarkin no doubt expected him to execute the boy on the spot for his prolonged verbosity. The boy, not seeming to care for the proceedings deciding his fate, gazed idly at the large mosaic of Queen Amidala decorating the throne room's ceiling with mild interest. Pain shot through him as he noted it was the most expressive he had seen the boy since he been hauled before the court in binders.

Vader remained silent and felt the opportunity to object be washed away by the composure of the boy who seemed to broadcast a gentle indifference. Vader found himself mimicking it as the screaming match grew more frenzied, with their host finally deciding to partake in the farce of a conversation. Together both gazed upwards towards the ceiling as the sun began to set along the horizon.

The shouting match was to no avail and the Sith Lord found himself sweeping down the steps in the direction of the hanger and his shuttle, boy in tow, garbed in some garish outfit no doubt acquired from the child of a courtier. Dressed in blinding blue silk robes, the child for all intents and purposes had not seemed to realise that a forceful conscription had occurred. Though to what military branch Vader knew not, for there was no paperwork to indicate that a transfer of any kind had occurred with assignment to Vader himself given that the boy was not to occupy a military rank as per Tarkin's futile and ultimately veiled promise to the Senator. A trail of frustration itched through him as he contemplated the response of his Master to the assignment of a child aide to him and Tarkin's chilling presence in the issuing of the ultimatum.

"What is your name?"

"Luke," Luke said serenely and the Force quivered. A half truth.

"No last name, child?" Vader found himself asking, as Luke half jogged to keep pace with the striding Dark Lord.

"Milord, the allocation so true of a last name in such a predicament as mine is highly disinclined given the priori and objectionable engagement of fellow blood related members of my family group who participated in unseemly and subversive behaviour relating to their disaffection with institutionalised organisations which offended their sensibilities most gravely and caused a great reallocation of all available assets in support of rejecting the source of dispute." Luke beamed at the Dark Lord, even as the words tumbled from dry lips. The Force quivered, an odd tremor which sang in agreement with the deluge. Truth.

"I shall call you Luke."

"Yes, Lord Vader."


	2. Appointment

**Chapter 2 – Appointment**

 _A/N: For those of you curious about the premise, you may want to check out a wonderful British comedy called "Yes, Minister" along with its sequel "Yes, Prime Minister"._

* * *

Luke's hurried appointment to his new position as Personal Aide to Lord Vader commenced promptly. He smiled mildly at Ensign Menzies, who with a barely concealed look of apprehension, led Luke to his quarters aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer _Sovereign_. Tarkin's presence radiated throughout the ship, odious malice creeping from every pore of every person on board. Menzies, curiously enough, seemed to be lacking in the standard assignment of lacking empathy compared to his peers they had already passed. Regulation grey for a moment was blotted out by a malaise creeping down the intersecting hall to Luke's room. He shivered, his rags hanging loosely off him.

Luke soon found the source of Ensign Menzies' apprehension. Customary wheezing proceeded his father's arrival along with a withering cloud of ice. The junior snapped a crisp salute, even as his face noticeably paled as the Sith slowed to a halt before them.

"Ensign Menzies," Vader almost growled, "you are dismissed. I shall speak with my aide."

"Yes, Lord Vader!" Blurted out and Ensign Menzies stepped around Vader to briskly power walk away from his potential cause of untimely demise as inconspicuously as possible. Luke and Vader shared a long look.

"Follow me," Vader ordered and Luke found himself trotting alongside him down the corridor. His Force induced lull couldn't conceal the radiation of Dark Side energy blazing from the room at its end. A code later and they were in. Luke tapped deeper still into the Force as he resisted the urge to gawk at his father's regulation and entirely undecorated steel grey rooms. The meditation chamber itself sent pins and needles skittering across his mental skin and his limbs felt as though they lagged behind him while his right wrist seared with phantom pain.

Vader's presence itself hovered around him, poking and prodding at Luke's submersed conscious as the size up began. A surprisingly gentle tendril sneaked below the waves of calm. A recoil, Vader's tendrils lashed backwards in a spray of sand, dust and dryness. "You are not a native of Naboo," he stated. They stepped further into the lair and the door softly shut behind Luke as Vader turned to fully consider him. "You have no possessions to unpack nor do you have anyone to contact in relation to this arrangement."

"Correct, Milord," Luke replied, thinking of the hysterical call an almost hyperventilating Bail Organa must've made as soon as he reached the nearest encrypted comm unit. Definitely no one to inform.

"Then you are free to immediately commence your duties, child." Vader's hand disappeared into a pouch and presented Luke with a datapad, followed by a code cylinder. Luke outstretched his hands to receive them. "These codes are a derivative of my own clearances, child and I will know if they have been misused," Vader said darkly. Luke almost dropped them as his tiny hands struggled to wrap around the objects and blinked upwards at his father who towered about him. With some amount of struggle, Luke eased himself back into the Force, wrapping his cloak of concealment within it ever more tightly around him as the words finally hit him.

"Yes, Lord Vader," he beamed, opting not to risk his frail clothing with the weight of the devices.

"Your duties are yet to be fully defined, but there are some areas where you may be of use." Now a holopad was produced and it lit up with a star map, reflecting the rest of the _Sovereign_ 's trip back to Coruscant. "Grand Moff Tarkin is determined to force an early return to the Imperial Center as opposed to a more thorough examination of the Outer Rim territories are originally arranged," Vader sneered. "These inspections along the Corellian Run are to be conducted at a later date, but conducted nonetheless. You are to research the Governors of the systems along the Run and compile dossiers as to their dealings internal and external to the Empire. Our inspections are not limited to rebel activity alone," Vader enunciated grimly.

Luke felt an eyebrow hike upwards. "Would, per chance, Milord, this relate to the recent decrease in economic productivity reported by the Commission?" He hadn't heard of this happening last time. Imperial audits were renowned for flushing out just as many Alliance spies as they would reigning Governors. With the construction of the Death Star of course finances would be an issue.

"Yes. The Emperor grows displeased by the decrease in economic expansion and suggests that our trade sectors require further motivation." A tension, a whisper of something in the Force that whispered a contradiction in Luke's ears.

"Is it only motivation they require, Milord or should I expend energy into researching other relevant areas?" Luke asked, broadcasting as much peace as he dared. "Surely we can improve upon the results the Emperor desires." There it was again, the twitch of Vader's mental tendrils stirring, once more reaching out to him. Usually limp and lifeless, they twisted into life.

"And why, child," Vader asked slowly, "would this be of concern to you who is conscripted to service?"

"In all honesty Milord," Luke could almost feel the Sith bracing himself for what was to come, "if we address all of the problem areas instead of simply one we may be able to better place our time elsewhere. The overall outcomes are better met with holistic, long term approach than a simple patch up solution for the short term. It may require some reforms, but a more efficient system may promote greater overall productivity than only addressing one, fairly minor facet of the problem." The moment the words left his lips that it had been a mistake to relax his expected tone, with Vader's presence folding heavily over his own and silence stretching as he came to a decision.

"Very well. Prepare a list of problem areas for address and we shall see what can be arranged prior to inspection." Luke held back a sigh of relief. "In one hour we will attend upon the bridge in order for me to determine your aptitude in other areas. There is suitable clothing in your room given your prior living arrangements. I will await you here. Do not be late," Vader threatened.

"Yes, Lord Vader," and Luke settled for a medium bow, code cylinder digging into his palms, and set a comfortable walk out the door even as his father's eyes and presence remained coiled around him. It would not do, after all, for a civilian to be using a military salute which is definitely something Vader noticed with the coils waving barbed hooks, as if looking to catch some ulterior motive, but came away clean. The more distance he cleared the more tendrils fell away, but one stubborn sentry remained in spite of all attempts to coax it loose. He resigned himself to a chunk of his father's awareness remaining on rather ironic babysitting duty.

Ensign Menzies was only in his twenties but looked as though his assignment so close to the quarters of the Sith Lord appeared to have added a decade to his age. He stood, awaiting Luke at the entrance to his rooms and flashed his own code cylinder before Luke could lift his own. A mild anxiety radiated from the man. "Sir!" He saluted as Luke entered in front.

Luke smiled. "Luke. My name is Luke. You are free to use it." He turned to say, before he looked inwards and his jaw briefly sagged open. "Well, it's certainly larger than I was expecting."

"Indeed, sir," Menzies said as he followed Luke through the door into rooms substantially larger than the Sith's own, decorated in rich crimsons and black fabrics. "These were originally Lord Vader's rooms while he was assigned to the _Sovereign_ but he declined in favour of the smaller chambers. He has elected to assign them to you instead," the Ensign explained and as Luke observed the layout he could see why. None of the facilities present would do anything to help someone with his father's life support systems and substantial retrofitting would likely be unnecessary given the short length of the stay. A conventional room fit for a Lord, but not a Sith Lord in Vader's position. From the faint taste of fury clinging to the entrance, his father well recognised the message behind the assignment.

"Well," Luke said pleasantly, "I will have to pass along my gratitude to Lord Vader. After spending the previous weeks in close conference with Naboo's remarkable drainage system, this is a pleasant change. A tour if you would?"

"Certainly, s-Luke." Luke noted that it was as luxurious a setup as one could find on a Star Destroyer. Fluffy towels and dark marble counters in the 'fresher, actual running water in the shower. A walk in wardrobe filled with a selection of clothes ranging from military slacks to flowing black and extremely thick robes which he gratefully threw over one arm as he shivered in the depths of space. The bed mounded generously with fine silks and a mattress that carried a very real risk of drowning due to its softness. The kitchenette's existence was something of a mystery, but Luke graciously forced a strong mug of coffee into the taken aback Ensign's hands whose pleading denials were dutifully ignored.

"Right, Ensign Menzies. You have been assigned to assist me with settling in?"

"Yes, Luke." Menzies' was perched with military posture in one of the immaculate leather couches the recessed lounge room seating, sipping slowly on his coffee. His Force presence was a strange, jumbling sense of contradictions and gave the impression of a bird about to take flight from the nearest cliff.

Luke fought through a wave of the man's confusion. "Well, the scheduling for the ship is unknown to me as such and I will require some assistance in determining contact procedures for relevant staff members."

The brown haired man shot to attention, smoothly extracting a datapad from an internal pocket and rapidly hitting the keys. "I will need a little time to prepare a comprehensive list, sir."

Luke eyed the chrono. "You have thirty-five minutes, after which I have a meeting with Lord Vader. Do you need more time?"

Something sparked in the Ensign's eyes. "No, sir, that should be plenty."

"Excellent, now if you'll excuse me..." Luke sailed into the refresher and cheerfully slammed the door shut behind him. He thought he heard the Ensign cough violently as he did so.

Thirty minutes later an immaculately robed up and scrubbed Luke sailed straight back out the refresher and the Ensign did a double take. "Done?"

"Yes, sir." The man frantically attempted to shift his eyes back to the datapad but his eyes kept travelling upwards to Luke's bright hair.

"This is my natural hair colour, Ensign," Luke smoothly informed him.

"Yes, sir," he nodded vigorously and hastily presented his findings. "The listings for shift change over, maintenance schedules, the itinerary for our current assignment..." Luke let the Ensign carry on even as he gestured for the man to rise and they stepped out the door en route to Vader's rooms. With each step his escort became his tone hitched ever higher upwards. For a moment the aura emitting from his father's room surged and Luke decided to take pity on his guide.

"I can manage the rest, Ensign, I am much indebted," Luke gave the poor man a jolly clap to the back, listened to his garbled response and observed the swiftest about face he had ever witnessed in any of the militaries in which he had served as the Ensign's heels rapidly clicked out of sight.

The door snapped open and Vader strode out in time to witness the Ensign rounding the corner at speed. "He certainly is quick to listen to dismissals, isn't he Milord?" Luke asked his father brightly.

"A honed skill in His Majesty's service," the Sith snarked and Luke suppressed the urge to blatantly stare.

"If only the military still used runners," Luke chimed as he fell in behind a step to the man's right. He received no other response than another cursory probe into the surface layers of his mind which hastily removed itself as wicked glee rained upon it.

Their journey towards the bridge's turbolift was peppered with the various salutes, aborted dives, platitudes and the occasional near strangulation of an officer who failed to move out of the Sith's way in time. One dark haired man had spent far too long eyeing off Luke's presence and received a blistering dressing down containing no less than six implied death threats. He was lifted by invisible hands and launched from the walkway without Vader breaking stride. Luke felt a tinge of envy. Never before had Luke managed to so perfectly emulate a bar eviction toss with such little concentration. With a few more steps they made it to the lift, where the occupants aborted their ride with as much pace as they dared without insulting the pair.

The lift soared upwards and Luke remembered the very last time he had such a ride with his father. It contained notably less homicidal rage. As it coasted to the bridge level, Luke lept out of his skin as his father's hand wrapped itself around his shoulder and gently shoved him out the door. As they came into view of the stars Luke saw why. What appeared to be a three squads of blaster holding Stormtroopers surrounded Tarkin as he barked orders to the crew from on high. _Surely that has to impede operations_ , Luke thought to himself absent mindedly.

 _His personal guard_ , a familiar voice whispered, _thirty-two in total_. Luke gave a tiny sage nod.

"Governor," Vader greeted, fingers still latched on, as if expecting Luke to bail at any given moment. Considering the company, it wasn't an altogether bad idea. It was a shame his father had evidently thought of it first.

"Lord Vader," Tarkin smiled tightly, then unpleasantly, "and Lord Vader's aide."

"Greetings Governor. It can only be expected that such a resplendent meeting of the minds would occur in approximate proximity to distinct and well recognised men of your such status whereupon our greetings converge." Vader's fingers twitched even as Tarkin glared.

"I see," Tarkin said slowly.

"My aide will require access to the complete itinerary for the cancelled Corellian Run inspections," Vader stated bluntly. Tarkin clearly hadn't been expecting any follow up, for his displeasure echoed quite obviously throughout the Force. The grip on Luke's shoulder increased. "While the scheduling has changed it would be against the Emperor's will to leave open the investigation of the tardiness in resource delivery plaguing the supply line of his current projects. In light of the delayed tour of your Sector it is likely the resulting inspections will fall to me." There was little doubt that with Vader's involvement and complete lack of tolerance for politics that the investigation would result in a trail of crushed larynxes from one end of the Run to the other. A creeping sense of convenience swept over him.

"Any communiques, briefings, disclosures, dossiers, proclamations, publications, press releases, reports, exchanges of contract, orders, instructions, minutes of meetings or discussions and final summaries processed in preparation of any assumed prospective visits are required to facilitate the expedient categorisation of all inspectorate duties inclined to be initiated over the tentative duration of the expected inspection," Luke supplied happily.

Tarkin's mood roiled under Luke's modest list. "I shall have my secretary prepare the necessary documents," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Is that all?"

"For now, sir unless a proclivity to not provide secretarial details incurs unnecessary delays at which point further action may be taken." Tarkin opened his mouth for a reply but was swiftly cut off by the Sith Lord.

"There is one other matter. In order to complete his duties he requires time on the bridge to observe and experience relevant procedures."

Tarkin's expression contorted. "Very well," he uttered. "Can he be left unsupervised while we conclude our remaining business with the Queen?"

A gentle tickle along Luke's consciousness followed by Vader's foreboding assertion that Luke would "behave himself adequately" and Luke was left to his own devices as Vader, Tarkin and the horde of Stormtroopers stampeded past.

The unnamed Captain of the Sovereign beckoned Luke over and Luke found himself peering at the blue world of Naboo through the viewport.

A thin set man, features set in an expression of mild curiosity. "I am Captain Pearce," he introduced himself, hands tucked behind his back. Luke made careful note of the complete lack of formality and dipped into a deep bow.

"Greetings, esteemed Captain Pearce. I have been instructed to better familiarise myself with the procedures of the ship. I aide Lord Vader in managerial and time sensitive areas."

"Then perhaps we should start with a tour of the bridge?" The man nodded and Luke feigned confusion as he recognised many of the instruments from his prior life of Star Destroyer hijacking. The chain of command as it stood was new to him as Ensign's carrying datapads sped in and out of the bridge carrying new reports which the Captain carefully oversaw. It wasn't long though before a noticeable spike of terror rolled over the Communications Officer and the ashen faced man hurried over to Pearce and saluted.

"Sir, we have a message from the Emperor demanding that Lord Vader make immediate contact," came out in a jumbled rush of pitches.

"Lord Vader is conducting negotiations with the Queen of Naboo and Grand Moff Tarkin. It will be some time before either of them return."

"Sir, but surely he won't accept such a thing?" The panic between the pair was rising, with Palpatine himself no doubt still holding the line awaiting a response.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Luke said calmly, an idea blinking to mind, "but perhaps I may be of some assistance? As Lord Vader's aide I oversee all appointments of meetings and allocations of time to certain duties. Perhaps it would be best if I explained the situation to His Highness since these duties are indeed mine after all."

And was immediately swamped in hesitation and a suspicious amount of concern. "Surely, sir, it being your first day working for Lord Vader that you undertake such a..." Captain Pearce fumbled, "duty". He finished lamely. "His Majesty is an impressive figure," then his voice dropped, "with impressive consequences for inciting his displeasure."

"I am quite aware of it," Luke beamed, "but I will endure. Now, which room is this normally done in?"

With the air of a men marching someone to an early death, both the Captain and the Comms Officer led Luke to the communications unit to where a highly unimpressed Emperor Sheev Palpatine awaited.

"Ah, forgive me, I was not aware of there being staff senior to that of the ship's Captain," he simpered with the perfected air of a genial grandfather. Palpatine's eyes were rapid in their examination, even after being broadcast halfway across the galaxy.

"The apologises are mine, Your Highness, for I was only recently appointed to my role and the probability of you receiving such news so soon is slim." Luke made sure to bow deeply. "I am Luke, Personal Aide to Lord Vader."

"I wasn't aware that Lord Vader had an aide," Palpatine replied, his shock only apparent for a brief moment in the lifting of a scorched eyebrow.

"Governor Tarkin thought that Lord Vader would appreciate the assistance given inherent complications ascertained in the judicious and formidable carrying out of your will as so diligently occurs in the operations of Lord Vader. As such, I was appointed on Naboo during the Queen's opening address to assist with all manner of things." Palpatine blinked.

"How considerate of Grand Moff Tarkin. I must ask him what inspired the idea."

"Oh, Your Highness, the situation was quite simple. My compulsion and natural inclination towards the erection and maintenance of royal effigies promulgated a sentiment most recognisable and significant to Governor Tarkin's breast and so resulted in my assignment to Lord Vader. I am flattered that such regard was given to my obstinate devotion to such a high manner of acknowledged doctrine in spite of my circumstances." Palpatine's facial expression would have been considered mild, if not for the slight twitching of his lips.

"I see, child," he smiled broadly, exposing decaying teeth. "Then all that remains for discussion is the whereabouts of Lord Vader?"

"Lord Vader is currently ministering Governor Tarkin in impending negotiations, both substantial and incremental, in allaying the burden felt by localised officials perturbed by the exacting nature of all due official delagatory requirements of membership holders within the Empire. A most revelatory experience exercising increased time requirements which prevent Your Highness from contacting Lord Vader due to the onerous essence and singularly unique problems created by such a time consuming appointment. Given these commitments to excelsior undertaking and completion of produced objectives, perhaps an alternative and enduring dialogue may be arranged wherein Lord Vader retains adequate time to thoroughly report upon the findings upon rumination of the appointments events." Luke resisted the urge to breathe deeply.

"I see, then tell Lord Vader I await contact at the earliest available opportunity, especially in light of such passionate oration," Palpatine said toothily.

"Certainly, You Highness," and without another word Palpatine vanished.

Luke breezily wafted out of the comm unit, coming face to face with the grey faced Captain and his white Communications Officer. "Uh, sir, how was His Majesty?"

"Excellent, he was most receptive of Lord Vader's circumstances."

"He was?" The Communications Officer blurted out.

"Indeed he was, it was quite a spectacle. I must record this for Lord Vader to peruse upon his arrival. If someone would be so kind as to call Ensign Menzies to escort me to my rooms? And perhaps provision of a comlink would be useful." They nodded fervently even as Luke migrated back towards the viewport, gazing beatifically at the planet below.

Still attached to his mind, a tendril spasmed in what might have been impressed horror.


	3. Resonance

**Resonance**

 _A/N: I'm not dead. Yet._

* * *

Vader knew. Before his comlink had even buzzed his attention wavered and he could feel the phantom presence of his master reach out with icy hands to the _Sovereign_. The plummeting, fetid swell of malice embraced the officers manning the communications array, groping excitedly as his master issued his demands. Terror seeped from the command staff even as they hung suspended in orbit half a planet away. A result that only could have been matched had the withered body accompanied the spirit. There was little question as what the demands would entail.

Her Majesty was still speaking, stilted tones lacking in emotion, but rich in stilted formality. Signs of an admirable effort to remain civil in the face of adversity. A series of escalating threats nested in subtext, shaded in polite pleasantries. Well restrained indignation failed to escape the mouth rounded in thick lipstick and makeup.

Tarkin was gesticulating emphatically, the smile on his face never reaching his eyes. Nor did his lips truly touch his own teacup. Nor did Tarkin's eyes wander to his shadow, Vader once again an observer to a matter of little galactic merit. Embers of rebellion were glowing ever brighter and here he remained, a token appearance for political gesturing in a lacking territory.

A grey shroud descended over the waking world and he withdrew from the physical world and his mind wandered upwards to the fragment of attention which lingered on his aide. The boy was elusive, but the lone tendril inexplicably remained while the rest had slid from his person. Tarkin and Her Majesty continued unabated, too absorbed in their conversation and too weak to see him drift away.

Captain Pearce, a mere placeholder for the captaincy until the return to the Imperial Center, was rigid with anxiety and oozing dread as the Emperor's message passed onwards. The Emperor had issued a summons, one of which would be of little concern to answer. The Sith's presence on the planet was a show of force more than a necessity, as Naboo's fragile queen delicately set down her flower patterned teacup upon its like patterned saucer. It would be inconsequential for him to return to the _Sovereign_ to answer the summons and receive new, perhaps more productive orders.

The Captain was not of the same opinion and a frenzied exchange occurred in real time. A debate as to how his master was to be told of his duties elsewhere. The exchange was brief, a surge of overwhelming, palpable terror and _concern_ emanated from both men in response to his resolutely blank aide. Again, the boy was an empty void of emotion, free of lingering attachments and wrought with indifference. Unable to track the ghostly child's motives, he instead followed the scent of the officers as their fears were now tempered with how his master would respond to a child answering the query. More importantly to them, how the Emperor would respond to them granting the authority for the child to do so in the first place. If anticipation had been tangible it would have smothered the bridge within an instant.

Luke's calm permeated the room, a freestanding pillar in an oncoming storm. The boy had volunteered to receive the call and, from the perspective of those watching, stepped quite candidly into the source of his prospective demise. Palpatine's essence surged in for a thorny embrace and encountered... nothingness. A sheer, smooth cliff of utter blankness. An eloquent lunge, now an inadequate flail phased through the child, failing to resonate like to like.

His master's presence seemed to stumble, outstretched tendrils frantically grappled for purchase on something to sate its hunger. Vader retreated, narrowly evading the hooked ends as they sank into the officers he had only just left. Stubbornly, he clung to his lone thread attached to the boy and felt it pull as Luke's already indifferent nature slid further towards apathy. His master was utterly beneath the child's regard.

Familiarity welled up within the Sith. An old wound threatened to reopen as the tiny boy radiated Jedi serenity, completely oblivious to the malevolent Sith Master seeking weakness and cracks through which he could drip his slow poison. A whisper of Obi-Wan hung around Luke's presence, but his old master had never been so empty even when he was posing as a decaying corpse. A mournful void which shunted Vader further and away as his own irritation grew. It was as though the core of the boy had simply been ripped clean out and left an empty husk behind. A husk capable of interacting within a world, but a husk which did not live. The younglings at the Jedi Temple, far younger than the child before him, boasted a greater emotional range. Sidious could not sense it, but Vader knew and ached with the knowledge of what Tarkin has just delivered upon him, a fist clenching in response.

His master's tentacles lashed backwards, cold wrath tinged with curiosity echoing throughout the Force. Vader felt the ripples from a distance, buried so deeply within the child's mind with his single anchor it was as though he was watching a recording of the event rather than the event itself. As they thrashed they extended towards him and he braced himself, only for they malevolence to phase through him. Dissatisfaction, they grasped at air and they vanished. It was impressive, a child so young so utterly immune to the whims of a Sith Master. Impressive and disconcerting.

The Sith remained lodged within the boy's mind for the rest of the meeting. Minutes of observation turned to hours and the sun made an appearance in the corner of one of the Queen's stained glass windows. As he lingered patterns of thought became more evident. What Luke lacked in emotion he made up for in depth of thought and breadth of knowledge. Every shred of information attached to his probe resulted in a response. Images of ships returned calculations or schematics, names of individuals returned loose whispers of their pasts or associations, but all attempts of discovering the boy's homeworld fell flat. Each query returned a blast of sand and rolling dunes. A desert world, but no hints of a name attached to the countless questions. A well organised mind which could have belonged to a droid for the lack of sentimentality attached to it.

Tarkin was concluding the meeting and Vader made one last attempt in his search for the boy's identity. He weaved an image of himself and curiously dropped the idea into Luke's mind. The world trembled and the Sith felt grief. All consuming, burning and ever present grief which lasted fleetingly before it too vanished into a pit of indifference with a surge of burning flames. The boy could indeed feel, but it was blotted out by whatever had been inflicted upon his mind. Jarred, his probe came away and the Sith was left facing Tarkin and the Queen as they rose to bid each other farewell.

Vader ensured that he was the first through the exit with a Stormtrooper hailed and orders for his shuttle to be prepared given. He did not pause as he made his beeline straight to the Queen's rooms through the side passages and was rewarded by her and her security detachment striding into view. The child Queen concealed her outward surprise well.

"Lord Vader, what an unexpected pleasure," she said, taken aback.

"Your Majesty, I request a moment of your time."

A bubble of amusement from her and she waved a hand towards the pathway leading to the palace gardens. "Perhaps somewhere more private, Lord Vader?"

"This is agreeable."

Another gesture and her security team was ordered to remain behind. She took the lead as she lead him through the palace's hidden passages and they entered the dawn of the garden.

"Lord Vader, how may we assist?"

"Where was the boy when he was apprehended?"

She failed to conceal her shock upon this question, eyebrows noticeably raising upwards. "The blond haired boy who left with your detachment following the Empire Day celebrations?"

"Yes."

She frowned, casting her mind backwards. "He was found sleeping near the palace's tomb of Queen Amidala. Palace security was unable to determine how he found his way to the tomb, only that someone on security apparently saw fit to allow him into the palace. As of yet, they have found no one who could be directly traced." Vader's breath would have caught had the respirator not breathed on his behalf.

"Why her tomb?" A sinking sensation, a twisting of the Force and Vader was left bereft of any guidance he could have called upon.

Fortunately, the Force was not needed to interpret the expression of intense pity which followed. "He told security that he wanted to visit his mother, the poor thing. We have no idea as to who his mother would be, but all children of our royals are accounted for as far as we are aware. Queen Amidala passed away with her child. She was well loved amongst the world's orphans, they saw her as a mother figure given her charity work once she left the throne. It could be that the poor boy was attempting to fill the gap..."

Vader did not hear the rest of her explanation, feet blindly carrying him in the direction of his shuttle. Numbness spread, there was an odd lack of the rage which gripped him to his surroundings. Why her tomb of all places? Luke's mind in question was of no help, bogged down by thick clouds of sleep which had crept up upon him as Naboo's day rolled over. His shuttle crew was summarily ignored as he boarded. Tarkin was present, his mouth thankfully remained shut and acknowledged him with a simple nod.

He disembarked in much the same way he had arrived. Without so much as a sidelong glance his cold fury carried him into the direction of his and the child's rooms. A parting of seas occurred as the whole of His Majesty's Imperial Navy gave generous way to the enraged Sith. Ensign Menzies, in a show self preservation, opened the boy's door for him and threw himself out of arms reach.

What he found had been somewhat disappointing, even if it were the logical conclusion. Luke, giving the impression he had fallen from a great height, was sprawled upon one of the suite's leather lounges. A faint snore emanated from where his head and gracelessly wedged itself where the arm met the cushion. Four empty coffee cups stood at attention and a fifth was at half capacity. A datapad lay in hibernation, dangling listlessly from a tiny, pale hand. The other sleeve was empty, the boy withdrawing one arm inwards. The boy had failed to stir in the slightest even with the Sith so close.

A gentle tug and Vader extracted the datapad with only a marginal tightening of fingers. It had failed to sleep properly and opened to a series of cross referenced lists relating to the Corellian Run. Dates, times, potential criminal or rebel connections, suspicious tax records and a host of commentary had been attached to a starchart. The boy was meticulous, starting with Core worlds and moving outwards as the compilation grew to spider web of associations. It was little wonder his mind probes had encountered such a wealth of information, but there was a nagging hole as to why the boy would have such a broad knowledge. The Force was once more of little use to him and the datapad creaked in protest as his hand tightened to a fist.

A stir of black fabric. "Milord?" Luke slurred after a long pause, blinking sleepily. "How can I help?" Vader would recount this as being one of the few times Luke had managed to sound his age.

"These are your preparations for the inspection?"

"Yes, Lord Vader," Luke slurred once again, yawning deeply. "I'm not done yet, but it's a start. The Emperor called by the way..." Another large yawn, "I had him make an appointment to get back to you later since you were busy and he should know better." The fearless boy struggled to a sitting position while trembling and continued to gaze blearily at him. Still half asleep, Luke swayed, eyes blinking slowly. An opportunity arose.

"Why are you here, young one?"

Luke was blinking again. "Because Tarkin said so."

"Why have you not attempted to escape?"

"It's cold," Luke murmured, shivering and indeed appeared to be turning slightly blue. "Freeze in space." Vader navigated to the nearest linen cupboard and returned to the trembling boy with a swath of sheets he unceremoniously dropped across the child. Luke surfaced with some effort and breathed deeply, still only hanging in the waking world.

"Why?" Vader repeated.

"They told me you killed my father," Luke mumbled. Vader froze and probed at boy, meeting a steady flow of confusion. There was no hatred or anger, only the vague sense of grief he had found prior.

"I have killed many fathers, child. You will have to be more specific," the Sith stated coldly.

"Yeah, you have," Luke said agreeably, "but I don't think you killed mine. Mine was a Jedi. I don't think he's dead, maybe if I hang around for long enough..." How curious. A reason for the missing last name, the child of a Jedi.

"Why do you believe him to still be alive?"

"No record of death," Luke mumbled. "Checked archives, couldn't find anything. He was popular in the Clone Wars, should've been something. Couldn't ask anyone, awkward questions."

"You think that I will find him."

"Yeah," Luke nodded.

"What makes you think he will continue to live after I find him?"

"Common interests?" Luke shrugged, eyes losing focus as he started to drift.

"Common interests such as?" Luke was unresponsive, eyes closing. "What of Queen Amidala's tomb?"

"Visiting mother," Luke garbled.

"And your mother is?"

It was too late. Luke's momentary awareness had faded, head sinking into his chest. Lolling sideways, the boy's form slowly migrated back towards the arm of the lounge. With a concealed noise of disgust, Vader stepped forwards and effortlessly lifted the child who turned out to weigh not very much at all. Skin on bone, the boy was far too thin. Moments later the child was deposited on top the bed and Vader left in a flowing movement.

"We are not finished," he told the near catatonic boy and the door hissed shut. Ensign Menzies was nowhere to be found, no doubt cowering some distance away until the danger had passed like a common animal. Perhaps it was for the best, anything to the contrary would destroy the boy's rapport with the few contacts he had to facilitate his work.

He remained in his meditation chamber long into the new day as the boy slumbered onwards. The datapad within his grasp, he added to the already long and winding list Luke had started, neatly sliding research of his own into the gaps. It was incomplete and such a task would have been impossible without an assistant, as his master no doubt would have realised. Luke's appearance and Tarkin's foolish intervention was more of a blessing than a hindrance at this point, the uncertain Jedi parentage irrelevant in the face of the tasks ahead.

As he reached out to check the status of his aide he could have sworn he heard an acknowledging whisper of _father_ echo along the Force and shuddered.


	4. Rapport

**Chapter 4 - Rapport**

 _A/N: Still not dead. Visually impaired, but not dead!  
_

* * *

Ensign Menzies' black, jackbooted heels skidded inelegantly around the corner as he braked from a frantic sprint from the central computer. As he careened around the bend, a mechanical breath filled his ears and his eyes failed to track the dark shape of the Sith. The pile of flimsy and datapads in his arms quivered violently, but remained aloft in their leaning tower. The Sith Lord stepped to the side, allowing Menzies to grip the doorway to the Aide's room with his single free finger as he slid to a halt. An almighty wrench, then a stop. Heavy breathing, a gasp and a sigh of relief.

"My apologies, Lord Vader!" Menzies called wheezingly, dragging himself over the threshold.

With a final struggle, Menzies hauled the mass to the flexing coffee table and deposited it with a smothered groan. A creak and the weight settled. Legs buckling, he sank into the seat opposite his child supervisor. Luke's blond head was hardly visible above the mountain of ordered notes which sat before the boy. A fastidious competence which unnerved Menzies, perhaps more so than the repeated encounters with Lord Vader who dwelled in the same corridor. How far the Empire fallen for a Joint Chief to come to _this_ decision.

"Are you alright, Ensign?" Blue eyes full of concern gazed down at him.

"I'm fine, sir," Menzies managed weakly. Gazing blankly, he felt a tiny warm hand tug at his own, enclosing his calloused fingers around a cool glass.

"Drink it before you pass out, Ensign. I suspect the next request will be larger still. Rest while you have the chance." Luke was frowning deeply, an oddly serious expression for someone so young. Within moments Luke had moved and was fussing with the new stack of documents. Frown fading into passive interest.

When Menzies had been called to assist with "Lord Vader's guest" he had expected someone rather older and rather more conventional. Instead he had been thrust head first into a tangle of data analysis, the complexities of like he hadn't seen since Alderann's Academy exams for advanced students. He considered himself fortunate to be one of those students if these were his foreseeable duties. The boy hardly batted an eyelid and blasted through potential trends and categorisations faster than Menzies could read most of the documents. Acts of muscle memory more than any sort of cognitive effort. From military funding to medical technology to engineering activities to agriculture, Luke encountered no topic which required further research or insight from another party. A frown here, a circled keyword there, a huff of displeasure, with Luke conversing idly on galactic affairs all the while with his breathless Ensign who hastily jotted down relevant notes.

A wheezing rasp later and Menzies struggled to his feet to acknowledge the Sith. Cold air swelled within the suite.

"Lord Vader!" Menzies saluted as crisply as possible, legs wobbling.

"At ease, Ensign." The Ensign slumped gracelessly back into his seat, Vader's head fixed resolutely on the Aide.

"Evening, Lord Vader," Luke beamed, "I have the updated itinerary for you to review. We may have some logistics pertaining to initiating actions."

Vader's regular visits during these meetings, while not something Menzies had ever really thought about in depth, should have been logical. A teenage boy with unknown skills left to his own devices upon the ship of Grand Moff Tarkin to leisurely waltz the ship's length was a recipe for disaster. Of course, the boy would have to be supervised in some manner. It simply was not the manner Menzies had been expecting, Vader hovering almost silently as he had for the previous month over Luke's shoulder, a datapad obligingly leaping to his fingers as he outstretched a gloved hand. Once frantic whispers of the Sith Lord being some manner of sorcerer confirmed in casual and indifferent moments of mundane utility. Luke hadn't even blinked when it had happened for the first time in his second day of residency as they meandered back to the Imperial Center. The spritely youth ,who was now stretched at a pained angle, balanced another sorted pile of schematics on a knee, completely heedless to potential fingers one day closing around his throat. Vader like his Aide spent a glimpse upon each file. His infamous air of intimidation was gone, instead an irked, almost snide air clung to Lord Vader.

"Has Grand Moff Tarkin authorised the proposed route?" Vader rumbled.

"No, Lord Vader."

"The aforementioned logistics problem?"

"Yes, Lord Vader. Governor Tarkin has pre-emptively asserted a verifiable claim on all assets requisitioned henceforth through due process, preventing initiation of our requisite and noble obligation of audit related acts for the Imperial throne," Luke almost chirped. Menzies pondered how the tiny set of lungs had managed that in a single breath.

"Grand Moff Tarkin is not sufficiently incentivised to provide those resources to us. He has little to no reason to divert military assets to an audit which he feels will not improve the productivity of the Empire," the Sith gestured sharply as he spoke. Flat tones contradicted barely restrained energy.

"We may need to rephrase the purpose of the audit to gain those resources." Luke carefully set his documents on the seat next to him and turned to face his host. "I can see that Governor Tarkin has aligned a rather large amount of assets to a certain mass construction project." Vader stilled, a free glove flexing into a fist. "Numerous spending trends indicate movements of human resources, troop and general logistic movements towards a wider project than simple ship construction. The accumulation of specialist material from quarantined planets makes it apparent that mass construction is taking place under his command."

"Show me how you came to this conclusion." Menzies watched as the Aide did precisely that, graphs and tables neatly converted into visual models of cargo movement, trade deals, money transfers, troop movements and periods of Tarkin's absence from frontline governing of the Outer Rim. A swarm of cargo ships massed on Jedha, squirrelling away some type of material called a kyber crystal which prompted the Sith to stiffen even further as Luke tailored his conclusion. "As you can see, Lord Vader, anyone who has the indicative trends can predict that large, secretive and perhaps politically unsavoury building project is taking place at Governor Tarkin's command. The Senate is unaware and it is likely that them continuing to remain unaware is in the Emperor's interests."

"And the simulations?" Skepticism.

"All from the modelling of the graphed data points we acquired from the Imperial Archives. I have run other simulations to determine whether my models are accurate if provided alternative variables relating to movement are altered. With standard movement patterns the correlation is no longer existent in the models. These are the trends milord."

"Impressive. Most impressive. Ensign Menzies, did you form similar conclusions to that of the Aide?" Menzies froze, glass of water in hand and cleared his throat.

"Not initially, milord, but the more data we added to the model the more correlation seemed to become apparent. The marshalling of forces to Genosis in particular given its…" Menzies fumbled for a suitable word.

"-Uninhabited," Luke helpfully cut in.

"Uninhabited, thank you sir. Its uninhabited status leaves logical holes in troop movement. Numerous battalions including the 501st and the _Devastator_ have frequently vanished from the resources made available to fleet admirals in their Central Command requests. Most fleets involved have vanished for extended periods as have their associated senior officers on secret missions pertaining to the same sectors. Almost as though a complete reallocation of Imperial resources were taking place. The same patterns have repeated with the Joint Chiefs, including Grand Moff Tarkin and those sharing similar rank. From the evidence gathered I would concur entirely with the Aide." The eyeless gaze lingered on Menzies for an entirely too long period and Menzies resisted the urge to cough.

Luke stood and hobbled to the coffee machine appropriated from an unsuspecting officer's quarters. Barefoot toes padded unrepentantly along the carpet. Menzies neither had the heart nor the concern to inform Luke that it was Tarkin's coffee machine that had been appropriated for a "higher galactic cause than inept military stratagem". Luke's knowing smile as they smuggled it back to his room, straight past Lord Vader himself, indicated that none of the aware parties felt much sympathy for the enraged Moff. Vader, contrary to those who would normally avoid a disagreeable colleague, lingered closely by Tarkin's side, as if he drew strength from the fury. Upon raising his suspicions with his current superior, he had received a tired "in all likelihood, I would be more surprised if he wasn't" and decided to let it go.

"Perhaps rephrasing the purpose of the audit will encourage Grand Moff Tarkin's cooperation," Vader rumbled ominously.

"That milord, and reversing the order in which we audit. I propose we start in the Outer Rim and work our way inwards to Coruscant so that we may have a more"- it was here Luke paused delicately "-thorough understanding of the policy that informs their affairs for such audits to be necessary. The last audit of this kind was conducted prior to the Clone Wars." Luke's datapad was released from the armoured hand before any damage could be done by its grip.

The boy in question, mug in one hand, barefooted, casually clambered over a decidedly less fastidious mess of files on the floor to retrieve a lone datapad which sat mostly buried under the clutter. It flew from Luke's hands the moment it was raised. The Sith read intently, blue flickering off the lenses of the mask.

"Tatooine."

"Yes, Lord Vader. Tatooine is only technically part of Imperial space, but as the local rulers of the system they too are subject to the official laws of the Empire relating to taxation, slavery and the provision of adequate galactic services to citizens as per the Charter Rules." Later in life, Menzies would recount the room plummeting several degrees within an instant, Vader's stiff posture stiffening further. Per normal, the Empire's resident child bureaucrat was standing nearby, entirely unmoved by freezing temperatures. For someone so heavily swathed in thick robes it was yet another wonder as to how the boy hadn't felt it.

"I shall speak with Governor Tarkin. Prepare your progress reports as usual." And Vader was gone, a thunderstorm rolling from the room. Durasteel hissed shut and the sound of the respirator faded.

"He took that surprisingly well."

"Lord Vader is not overly fond of Core politics," Luke angled his head, vapour steaming upwards. "Or politicians in general for that matter. Investigating from the outside in permits us a degree of sympathy from the Core Moffs and other rulers."

"And them pledging their resources to our unsolicited audit which appears to have been more of a joke by the Emperor than a legitimate order," Menzies said, a dull feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"As they say, Ensign, many a true word said in jest and who are we but humble servants to follow our Emperor's orders loyally and faithfully for the Empire?" A young mouth full of entirely too many teeth. "Lord Vader is of course aware that the Emperor would rather not have anyone investigate." An unspoken conclusion passed between them.

"An expansion and enforcement of official Imperial borders on Outer Rim worlds filled with such savagery and criminality by the Hutts on the other hand…" Words dwindled, the lack of a response ringing true.

"Far more politically acceptable, productive and ultimately a preferable task for Lord Vader," Luke nodded. It was a strange thing, a young boy guiding a hissing, snarling dragon, the mailed fist of the Emperor, away from such petty dangers as political pitfalls. Personal concern that had not been shown by any others sent to act as adjutants to Vader, but here was a young boy who read the enigma so smoothly it could only be that Luke was one himself. Wielding the Emperor's own words against him under the entirely legitimate proposition of Imperial enforcement on barbarian worlds and using the Hutt's own protected status as leverage for cooperation.

"Lord Vader is extremely fortunate to have you, sir," Menzies stated genuinely. "I have seen few others with your dedication."

"Thank you, Ensign. That means a great deal to me." Bright blue eyes solemnly stared through him and Menzies could only hope that when the inevitable transfer happened that Luke would have the decency of having him transferred with them. He was unlikely to survive the eventual discovery of Luke's acquisition if a hasty exit was not discovered prior to Tarkin visiting a high-profile guest in the room.

Half a ship length away Vader stood observing hyperspace. Tarkin's fuming snarl was audible from the other side of the bridge, through a wall of quivering crew and assistants.

"What do you mean by _there's been another delay_ exactly?" Sympathy was not high on the Sith's list of priorities, not after viewing the efforts required to engage upon a galaxy wide audit of system rulers. It was only due to those same said efforts that insight came to him before the aide had time to even mouth the words.

"There's been attacks on the cargo from Jedha, sir. A rebel cell has been targeting air and ground transports carrying-"

"-What they are carrying is of little consequence, Lieutenant. You have not yet explained how a slither of rebels has managed to utterly delay essential work with such little action." An almost snarl from an otherwise naught but aristocratic figure.

The scale of the attacks were not new, but now Vader was aware that they should have been foreseeable by even those without the Force to guide them. So standard were the attacks, so seemingly minor, that no officials within inventory had managed to notice the dwindling supplies of crystal until stockpiles were almost entirely extinguished. Supplies from Ilum were no longer feasible, the planet strip mined to its very core. Yet for all the attention granted to the Death Star, only one seemed to have any idea as to the impact rippling from its inception to its future result. A fourteen-year-old boy who had identified the prospective delays a month earlier and had been ignored. Materials were rapidly depleted. Construction simply unsustainable. In the midst of it all, a child analyst the sole competent individual to perceive its capacity for causing problems. Vader flexed a metal hand as Tarkin stalked to his side, the throng of reporting individuals dispersing in a undignified rush through the shield of armoured, white figures guarding the bridge.

"Governor Tarkin, was this not warned of only a month ago?" Vader queried, tone flattened by the vocoder. Outrage tremored in the Force and the Sith basked in every misdirected iota of it tangling, lashing outwards towards his military staff instead of those trained in data analysis. How little the man was aware of specialties outside of his own.

"By an unqualified child. As if his reports have been credible." Tarkin hurled, flushed.

"His analysis has been sufficient enough to discover the location and supply lines of your project with minimal effort." A careless toss and Tarkin held a cloned datapad of Luke's modelling.

Blazing anger, now quenched by something far cooler, something far more anxious as Tarkin processed the implications. A spasmodic twitching of fingers and a blank facial expression showed little, but the Dark Side positively sang around Tarkin's ill expressed emotional incontinence.

"How is this possible?"

"He modelled statistics acquired from Central Command and the Imperial Archives. The output provided was most persuasive." Vader ever so slightly inclined his helmeted head, registering Tarkin's darkening skin tone with interest. "Once the data was plotted upon a galactic map he used it to identify key areas of interest to correct the imbalances within the Empire's current economic situation."

"And what," asked Tarkin, trembling, "was the alternative proposition for this scenario?"

"The alternative is to invert the trajectory of our audit and to acquire the resources concealed by those escaping the dues they owe to the Emperor. Tatooine has been listed as a noteworthy entry point given its hub nature to the undesirables traversing the Outer Rim. The extensive taxation supervised by the Hutt there has been duly noted with a not insubstantial void of finance occurring in its vicinity." Vader breathed in sync with Tarkin's soaring temper.

"They have been withholding resources!"

"Them and many others like them, Governor."

"How has it taken this long for it to be uncovered?" Tarkin demanded, beginning to pace.

"Those making prior recommendations had vested interests in the results of such an investigation never coming to light. Audits of this kind contain a historically little amount of popularity amongst those who would supervise them. The Aide has no such extra interests to stymie his curiosity or competence. Perhaps if your own underlings were more judicious in the serving of their Emperor they too would have uncovered the toxic roots permitting these inadequacies to flourish."

"So you agree with the recommendation?" Tarkin ground out from behind clenched teeth.

"I have seen little evidence to contradict the wisdom of the Aide's conclusions. Bringing the Hutts to heel will allow us more leeway with future endeavours in the name of the Emperor."

"Yes, Lord Vader, when you phrase it in such a manner I can hardly bring myself to disagree. For the rebel cells to be crushed our work must be completed with all possible haste. We have been too lenient in investigating all possible impediments to the Empire. I will raise this with the Emperor himself. The Hutts have outlived their usefulness." With a dismissive slice of his hand, the matter was at rest in and in agreement.

Behind his mask, Vader felt the tell-tale itch of scar tissue as the edges of his lips creeped ever so slightly upwards without his consent.


End file.
